It's funny how time and distance makes maturity grow. Growing old is not as cold as I once imagined it to be. I once felt like I knew you front, back, and center. But retrospection showed affection as rejection. The girl I knew I would torment with venting. Of love, and life, and especially of death. All the ways I'd scare her without ever, Realizing I was comprising our last, Love letter together, cold sweater, I sweat her and swept her under, Leaves of all these autumns, Buried underneath our, Fractured friendship. But I was in love. She was not. so we got smaller small just a .
Happy birthday to an old friend, wherever she is.
Really debated about posting this. Thought I was done posting poems, but here I am.